


left, left, left right left

by everybodyknowseverybodydies



Category: ER
Genre: Drabble, Gen, oops I don't even know I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybodyknowseverybodydies/pseuds/everybodyknowseverybodydies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The longer he went without being able to improve, the more snappish he got.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left, left, left right left

**Author's Note:**

> Title is (un)creatively taken from a little sing-song rhyme my mom used to say when we'd go for walks around the neighborhood.  
> This is... sort of a character study I suppose?

His arm hurt.

The longer he went without being able to improve, the more snappish he got. People were starting to give him dirty looks. He didn’t care; he was their boss and he was good at what he did. (Was good, used to be, past tense, he might never really operate again – no. He would. Lizzie told him so and if she believed in him then he could damn well do it.) He shifted his jaw and tried again to write out his name, left wrist gripped in his right hand.

His arm hurt, and he was angry.

_R… o… b…_

He rolled his wrist as much as he could, slow and uncomfortable. He hated it for not cooperating. He hated helicopters. He hated this damn pen for being so hard to hold.

_…e… r… t…_

Someone knocked, and the crossbar of his ‘t’ dipped off the edge of the page. He swore and threw the pen at the wall. “Don’t bother me!”

“Robert, look, I’m sorry, but you really do have to come supervise this,” Elizabeth leaned in, eyebrows raised. “Is something the matter?”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he snapped. He couldn’t look at her, pretending instead to be focused on something in his desk drawer. “Get out, Lizzie.”

She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something, then shut his door back without another word. He shifted his jaw and slammed his desk drawer closed. The excuse that he wasn’t even left-handed anyway came too late.

His arm hurt, but somehow the pity in her eyes hurt worse.

 

_R_

The fingers in his right hand twitched. “What are you doing?” he barked. “Give Corday a little suction already! How’s she supposed to work with blood everywhere and you idiots getting in her way –”

_“Robert.”_ Her voice was a little higher than normal. She shifted her grip on the instrument in her hand, blue eyes flicking to his momentarily.

He shut up.

_O_

“Suction please.” She stood with her back straight and hands steady, focused and intense and oh, damn her for doing what he couldn’t anymore, damn her careful hands and damn her precision and damn her eyes –

He turned and ripped the mask away from his mouth and nose. “I’m going to the bathroom. All of you listen to Corday; second-best surgeon at this hospital is still better than any of you will ever be.” With that he stormed out, stripping off the gown and the gloves and struggling. Not struggling. He wouldn’t ever admit to that. The door to the bathroom slammed shut behind him. For a split second he thought he saw Greene in the mirror behind him, but there was no one there and Greene was dead. He’d gone and died and left Lizzie and her little girl and she was still off-balance and off-beat and just plain _off_ , as much as she tried to hide it.

_M_

Locking himself into a stall in case someone else came in, he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. Useless, that’s what he was. What’s a surgeon with one arm? Not a surgeon anymore. Chief of Staff, Head of Emergency Medicine, wherever the hell they shunted him next in administration, yeah. Sure. At least he could still stay at the hospital, keep an eye on things.

His throat felt tight. He spun and kicked the wall as hard as he could. It didn’t do anything except make his foot hurt. The lump in his throat stayed even when he swallowed.

_A_

When he limped back into the OR, she was nearly done. It looked like they’d listened to him, because she didn’t seem to be having any trouble. He stood back to watch. Four hours – not too long in the way of surgeries, but long enough that he could see she was tired.

He almost offered to take over. As a joke, of course; she wouldn’t let him. But he stopped himself as she finished and set the instruments aside with a little clnk. “Done. Let’s get him stitched up and in recovery, alright?”

“Good job, Lizzie. They can do that part.” He jerked his head towards the door. “They need a surgical consult downstairs. You’re pretty popular in the ER; sure there’s not anything you need to tell me?”

Her mouth tightened as she pulled off her mask and gloves. “Yes, Robert, I’m sure.” She tossed the goggles aside, and the last glimpse he got of her was her curls tumbling down once she ripped off the cap.

_N_

It was nearly midnight by the time he was through with paperwork and could go home. He stopped short halfway out the doors at the sight of a tiny little girl with blonde hair looking at the vending machine and chewing on her thumb. “…Ella?”

She turned around to give him a wide-eyed look, but didn’t respond other than biting down on her thumb again before returning her attention to the (clearly much more interesting) vending machine.

“Hey – what are you doing here? Where’s your mom?” He tried to keep his voice gentler. Children were different. Scaring adults was alright, but scaring kids… well, they cried more.

Ella toddled a little ways towards the lounge, stopped, and looked up at him again.

He ushered the toddler into the lounge, shifting his jaw. She was asleep on the couch, chin on her chest and her jacket half-on, as if she’d been in the middle of getting ready to leave and just couldn’t stay awake any longer. With a sigh, he touched her shoulder.

“Lizzie!”

She jolted awake and smacked him. “Wh- Robert! What are you doing here – what –”

“You’re still at the hospital,” he scowled, rubbing his shoulder. “Be careful, alright? I caught your little girl wandering around. Are you going to make it home?”

Elizabeth let out a breath and nodded. “Yes. Yes, we’ll be fine. We take the El. But thank you.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Thank you. I’m sorry. Ella…” The little girl climbed up into her mother’s lap, tugging on a curl. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.” She scooped her up, kissed her forehead, gave him a smile. “Good night, Robert.”

“Night.” He waited until she was gone. Then he closed his eyes and pretended that he could feel his left fingertips, and that she hadn’t worn the same look he’d seen on her face when she talked about tumors and Hawaii. 

_O_


End file.
